


Ache

by Fatal_in_Fillory



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: After the Fall, Bedelia is dead but she still haunts Will, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, One Year After, Porn With Plot, Post Season 3 Finale, Post TWOTL, Will is exhausted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatal_in_Fillory/pseuds/Fatal_in_Fillory
Summary: "Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you... ache for him?"Bedelia often appeared to Will in times of extremity. Moments of intensity were anything but rare when Will and Hannibal were involved, thus, Dr. Du Marier sat across from him and it was anything but surprising. A year, Will realized passively as he raised the crystal clear cup of whiskey to his lips.[Or; One year after the fall, Will finds himself sitting across from a (very dead) Bedelia who will gladly remind him that Hannibal just might (or absolutely does) love him and Will is tired of pretending that he doesn't know.]
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time for these two so be nice! I don't foresee this being too long. 
> 
> Only another chapter or two, at most.
> 
> Also thanks to Snape and Kai for the beta and keeping me motivated. This is for them, really!

_ Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you... ache for him? _

Bedelia often appeared to Will in times of extremity. Moments of intensity were anything but rare when Will and Hannibal were involved, thus, Dr. Du Marier sat across from him and it was anything but surprising.  _ A year _ , Will realized passively as he raised the crystal clear cup of whiskey to his lips. His gaze passed lazily over the blond as she was situated across from him on the couch. Her legs, both still attached, were crossed opposite his and her thigh peeked from the side of the black dress which served as her final attire.

Unlike Bedelia, Will had changed drastically since her death. Will’s closet consisted of mostly simple, but dapper, suits tailored by the finest and chosen by Hannibal himself. A smirk graced his lips at the memory of him following just behind Hannibal and being led into shop after shop  _ after shop _ and being dressed up like Hannibal’s personal doll. Will’s lower back tingled at the thought of Hannibal’s hand guiding him into each doorway and greeting each tailor and shop owner by name or, more often, as old friends. 

Will looked idly to the armchair beside his and found the seat empty.

Hannibal was missing, as he often went, leaving Will to himself in the study. Will swallowed the mouthful of whiskey that held the slight hope Hannibal wouldn’t be gone long. Distantly, Will was certain Hannibal had  _ told _ him where he was heading but Will was rarely present during these times of quiet reflection. 

_ Is there a need to be present? _ Bedelia asked. Her words were still as careful as they had been when alive. Perhaps that’s all she could ever be, Will wondered. Careful.

_ Is there a need to be anything _ ? Will returned.

Will experienced these unstable episodes of his far more frequently after nights out with Hannibal  _ hunting _ . Sometimes, their weekly ritual didn’t bother him. Other nights, like tonight, Will would find himself seeing Bedelia or Hannibal or even Molly on one disturbing occasion. Will had long since understood what triggered it and Hannibal was, surely, observant enough to understand, as well, but neither spoke of it. 

_ Do you lack the ability to establish the boundaries necessary to prevent these episodes or do you just enjoy my presence?  _ Bedelia asked.  _ Perhaps you believe Hannibal would see you as weak and grow bored. _

Bedelia spoke all of the possibilities that had occurred to Will over the months and Will wasn’t blind to the fact.

_ Our dynamic is beyond boredom and interest, Bedelia. _

Will absolutely believed the statement but the possibility of being tossed aside or left behind haunted him. 

So the idea that Hannibal often murdered people with no reserve or question beyond ‘were they rude’ weighed on Will. 

Today was no different and Will shut his eyes to bring himself back to the scene.

Hannibal chose this one but Will followed. They hunted as a team, a pack, but tonight Hannibal had a design in mind and Will was simply support. The victim of choice was a woman who Hannibal had asked for directions from-- she was a prostitute or perhaps a sex worker for the nearby brothel who, assumedly, thought Hannibal was interested in a purchase. She told Hannibal with a scoff, “I would think someone your age would be better at starting conversation” and that was enough. Will sighed at the interaction-- Hannibal was in a playful mood and Will wasn’t going to stop him. Hannibal didn’t even have to give him their look before he was concocting a plan.

Waiting for the woman to divide herself from others took maybe twenty minutes which was almost the amount of time it took for them to return to the car for quick supplies. 

They closed in on her in a deserted alleyway in the middle of the day. 

Hannibal injected the woman with some sort of drug concoction and, within seconds, she was quieted. Hannibal decided then the alleyway they stood in would be her final resting place.

Now, the woman’s tongue resided in their fridge and her body was left for the police to find. The skin of her body looked striped and Will could easily compare it to that of a zebra with long, delicate strips of her skin missing. Hannibal had taken his time with this one-- perhaps as a creative outlet, Will mused.

“Death by a thousand cuts, or Lingchi,” Hannibal had explained at the time, scalpel slicing through the woman with ease, “was often used on those who committed treason or similar crimes.”

“And how does the crime fit the punishment? Surely being rude isn’t comparable to treason,” Will responded, large blue eyes blinking at the design being laid out at his feet. 

“Perhaps that  _ is _ debatable, to some,” Hannibal said, moving to the opposite side of her body to continue work there, “But no. Lingchi is more symbolic-- Sending the victim to the afterlife incomplete, at the time, was just as threatening as the act of a slow torturous death.”

But had the woman deserved her end?

Had the woman deserved to be partially skinned and sent to the afterlife incomplete?

Will didn’t think so and he opened his eyes at the thought.

Bedelia glanced around and Will could feel the eye of criticism as he followed her gaze. The study, much like the rest of the house, was designed by Hannibal. Will was offered the chance to contribute but denied it, if only to be allowed rest after the fall.

_ Is that how you quantify time?  _ Will looked back and found Bedelia’s head tilted slightly.  _ Do you consider the fall or meeting Hannibal as your… Becoming? _

_ Neither _ . 

Will gave no explanation and Bedelia, being an extension of Will, accepted the answer.

_ Why am I here? I’m certainly not the only one to fall victim to The Chesapeake Ripper and his pet… and yet… Here I am. _ Her words were slow and calculated and sank into Will like an unwanted chill _. _

_ Here you are _ . Will’s desire to have her vanish apparently did not outweigh his brain’s decision to keep her present and he sighed when he blinked and her form still sat across from him. 

_ Do you long to be known as a pair, again? The Ripper Husbands, was it?  _ Bedelia’s voice was taunting.

_ The Ripper Husbands have not formally been heard from in months _ .

_ The Ripper Husbands _ was the new nickname dubbed by Freddie Lounds when Bedelia’s remains were found. The discovery of her body all but verified the suspicion that Hannibal Lector and Will Graham did not perish at the rocky waves below the cliff and TattleCrime had a field day with the revelation. Hannibal’s goal to inform the world The Chesapeake Ripper remained alive was a success and the added knowledge that Will Graham had joined in the killing had Freddie Lounds more successful than ever.

So, the two were officially deemed The Ripper Husbands for the several months they stayed in America. Hannibal insisted on waiting until Will’s cheek healed enough to not be as noticeable and for Hannibal’s limp to subside. 

_ Do you ache for him? _

A pause.

_ Yes _ .

“Will?” 

Will blinked and his eyes fell on Hannibal in the doorway. The fireplace had burned to ash and the room was dark save for the light streaming through from the hallway Hannibal had entered from.

“Hannibal,” Will muttered as he realized his whiskey glass, empty, had fallen from his grip and rested on its side several feet from him. 

“You seem concerned,” Hannibal stated and entered the room swiftly.

Will shooed him away before standing quickly, “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

Hannibal gave him a disapproving look before moving away to grab the glass from the floor. Without a word, he left the room and Will to stand in the center of the room, palms rubbing his eyes fiercely.

The couch was empty, naturally.

Following Hannibal into the kitchen, Will kept at a distance and entered as Hannibal placed the cup into the sink. The air was heavy between them and Will kept his gaze on the island between them rather than on Hannibal as the man raised his head to Will’s entrance.

The kitchen was Hannibal’s second office and treated as such. The room was immaculate and every bit of it was Hannibal’s design put forth directly by him, for him. Clean white granite countertops atop jet black cupboards and drawers with enough space to fit entire sets of kitchenware comfortably. 

“I sense you have grown restless,” Hannibal said, pulling Will’s attention.

“Not restless,” Will said and leaned against the wall before standing back up at the strain it put on his shoulder. 

One year.

Will had known Hannibal’s feelings for an entire year and, frustratingly, nothing had been done about them. Standing on the cliffside, his full body  _ clinging  _ to Hannibal, he was sure that would be the moment. He wanted his last action before pulling them over to be their lips touching but Hannibal simply hugged him and that, Will decided, had been enough.

But now, standing across from Hannibal in their impossibly large house in the outskirts of Wellington, New Zealand, Will decided that  _ this _ wasn’t enough. 

Hannibal’s touches never ceased, necessarily, but they never progressed, either. Hannibal’s touch was subtle, soft even, but never sexual or beyond an unsaid level of affection. 

“Shall I prepare another move?” Hannibal asked. 

Will crossed his arms and shook his head, “No, no. God no.”

There was an extended silence and Will fought the urge to walk away. Will always felt the urge to walk away or, more often, run away but a look from Hannibal often grounded him. Will longed for that look, now, but found only a solemn gaze baring into him.

“Do you wish to leave alone, Will?” Hannibal asked suddenly. 

“I don’t want to leave, Hannibal.”

“Are you telling me this or yourself?”

“Are you that tired of me?” Will asked, humor in his voice reflecting little of his true feelings. Hannibal pulled a face and Will rolled his eyes, “It was a joke, Hannibal.”

“Jokes tend to hold humor.”

“Humor is armor,” Will muttered.

“We have no armor,” Hannibal paused, “Not anymore.”

“To ourselves or each other?”

“Both, perhaps.”

Will huffed a sigh and leaned his back against the wall, this time, his head falling back to meet the wall in a soft thud. He could feel Hannibal’s eyes on him, as always, but the feeling relaxed him.

“What plagues you?” Hannibal asked, finally, and perhaps that was all Will needed for his unraveling to begin.

“What doesn’t plague me?” 

Hannibal paused to regard the question carefully, “I had thought our times of vague discussions and dancing about calculating questions were behind us, Will. Have they returned?” 

It wasn’t a conscious effort for their talks to ever stop. After the fall, Will just found himself being much more blunt with Hannibal than he was previously. It was like the waves of the Atlantic washed away the tense unease that haunted Will so thoroughly. The ocean was Will’s baptism, in a way, and the fall was his acceptance. Acceptance of himself. Acceptance of Hannibal. 

Acceptance of  _ them. _

“You’re right,” Will said and shrugged himself away from the wall, “I’m disappointed.”

“Clearly. How can I, or we, rectify this?”

“It’s not something…” Will stopped and looked at the older man, once again, before moving across the room in a relaxed stride. He stood across the island from Hannibal and leaned his hip against the counter as he spoke, “You love me.”

It was a statement of a topic the two had never breached to one another but Will spoke matter-of-factly, nevertheless.

“Yes,” was Hannibal’s response. 

“Why haven’t you  _ done _ anything about it?” Will asked, words and waving hands brimming with exasperation. 

“What is to be done? I am content with our current standing and I have no intention of driving you away with any unwanted advances when this life was all I ever wanted for you,” Hannibal’s words were quiet and sincere.

Will knew Hannibal must have accepted this far before their fall-- possibly from the moment they met-- and the purity of his statement broke Will. The situation where Hannibal placed himself in a place of vulnerability was rare but Will’s track record with said vulnerability was anything but spotless. And yet, Will realized, here Hannibal was doing it again with just as much faith in him as Hannibal ever had.

“And what about wanted advances?” Will asked, careful but purposeful. “Bedelia once asked if I ache for you,” Will spoke as he stepped around the island and towards Hannibal. “I didn’t realize it at the time,” he said, “but I don’t remember a time I  _ didn’t _ ache for you.”

Hannibal’s lips were parted in a mix of astonishment and admiration and Will could see Hannibal’s tongue peeking from behind his teeth. Will let a smile develop when Hannibal took a step towards him but remained at arms length.

“And what led to this conversation with Dr. Du Maurier?” Hannibal asked, humor in the question.

Will huffed out a laugh, dipping his head when he chuckled, before he spoke, “I asked her if you loved me.” 

“And her answer?”

“Close enough to a yes that I ran away with you. I think if she had known I was going to do that, she would have lied,” Will said with another chuckle and Hannibal smiled a crooked smile, “She wasn’t happy about my response.”

Hannibal reached forward and cupped Will’s jaw, “I can imagine not,” Hannibal said quietly. Will leaned into the touch and met Hannibal’s hand with his own, cupping the hand delicately. There was a softness in the touch that Will could easily drown in. Hannibal’s gentle but loving gaze washed over him and Will’s free hand pulled the man towards him by Hannibal’s hip. 

“I’m done dancing around this, Hannibal,” Will spoke and his gaze flicked between the piercing red eyes and the parted thin lips just inches from him. Hannibal’s own eyes dipped to Will’s lips so regularly that Will found himself surprised when the man  _ wasn’t _ looking at him like a predator but the look he was given now was anything but predatorial. 

Hannibal’s adoration for Will was suffocating and the closer their lips got, the less Will felt he could breathe. Will was the one who pushed them over the edge-- past the line the two had toed for far too long. Will’s grip on Hannibal’s hip tightened and he pulled their bodies together in a swift, certain movement. He saw the surprise in Hannibal’s eyes just before his own closed and their lips met.

The kiss wasn’t electrifying. 

The world didn’t seem to reflect brighter or more colorful.

Everything was the same and yet nothing would be the same again. 

Their lips barely touched for a moment before Hannibal was wrapping his arms around Will and pushing the man’s hip into the countertop. Hannibal’s fingers dug into Will’s lower back through Will’s button up and the opposite hand caressed Will’s neck lovingly. Will’s own grasp kept Hannibal against him as if the man would disappear and he wasn’t quite aware he was bunching Hannibal’s sweater in his fingers until the crease set in well after the fact. 

Their height difference had Hannibal meeting Will’s lips from a towering position and Will felt simultaneously too crowded and not crowded enough. He wanted Hannibal in every orifice possible. He wanted Hannibal with every fiber of himself. He  _ wanted _ Hannibal in every way he could possibly have him.

Sexually-- romantically, even-- was simply the next logical step and his body was anything but uninterested. 

Will was first to deepen the kiss. His tongue slipped across Hannibal’s lip, quick and confident, just enough to pique Hannibal’s interest. Hannibal, without further teasing, dominated the kiss from there. His tongue explored the warmth of Will’s mouth in such depth, Will had to pull away to catch his breath. 

Hannibal’s lips simply maneuvered to kiss at Will’s cleanly shaven jaw while Will gasped for air. Will’s head was slack and fell back giving Hannibal full access to the man’s neck that Hannibal quickly took advantage of. With his eyes on the ceiling, Will moaned through parted, kissed-red lips and a tongue licked a long streak from his adam’s apple to his earlobe. 

Hannibal’s hand held the back of Will’s neck, keeping him still as he licked and sucked at the available skin. A gorgeous trail of bruised skin began to appear and Will’s hand came to grip Hannibal’s hair and  _ yanked _ the man away to recapture his lips. The ache in his back deepened and he broke the kiss with a groan.

“The counter--” Will muttered but lips were on him again and he pressed hard into Hannibal’s body and Hannibal’s body pressed him hard into the counter, “H-Hannibal--” Will said against the man’s lips and he pulled back slightly at his name, “Bedroom.”

Will paused as he watched the consideration in Hannibal’s eyes.

“Yours,” Will clarified, “Mine is a mess.”

Hannibal nodded once but pulled back completely. Will immediately missed… everything-- the warmth, the heaviness, the  _ touch _ \-- And he swallowed a groan of disappointment. 

“Perhaps we shouldn’t,” Hannibal stated and Will shot him a look.

“ _ Why _ ? We could have been doing this the past year, Hannibal, why stop now?” Will asked, only allowing bits of his exasperation in his words.

Hannibal looked so composed.

Will felt the passing desire for murder. 

Hannibal’s jaw tightened and Will saw a fleck of regret in the man.  _ Hannibal is holding something back _ , he thought as realization crossed Will’s own features.

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your current state of mind. I believe it in our best interest to wait,” Hannibal spoke quietly.

Will’s voice was anything but quiet, “What the actual-- what do you mean ‘take advantage?”

_ Broken. _

“Alana thought the same,” Will said, “I’m not stable. This is the best I’ve felt in years but I’m not stable,” Will scoffed and crossed his arms. 

“I simply don’t want you to regress,” Hannibal spoke calmly.

Will’s eyes narrowed at the man for a moment-- just a moment-- before his face relaxed and he nodded.

“Fine.”

And then he left the room. 


	2. Chapter 2

Avoiding Hannibal Lecter was normally a very difficult feat. Will spent many nights after their fall--his pull-- from the cliff wanting to run from the man. If they hadn’t been bedridden, perhaps he would have and Will was momentarily thankful for the physical ails that kept them together. Will’s habit of running was flexible, sometimes he ran towards Hannibal and other times he ran away but Hannibal was always involved.

_ Always _ .

However, Hannibal also understood when to give space and Will was a man who needed plenty of space. Not physical space, that much had been clear as he looked around his room and hummed quietly at the only area of the house he bothered to assist with designing. Will’s need for mental space was a well known prerequisite between the two that had long been understood. Mostly because Hannibal held similar requirements. 

Will curled in on himself in his bed, sleeved arms wrapped around his shoulders and knees bent atop his dark comforter. With his eyes closed, he let his mind wander-- another way to run from his reality. He missed his dogs. Sometimes, he missed Molly, even. He missed the boring normal life he left behind. 

_ I notice you only think of your past life when your present circumstances are uncertain. _

Will opened his eyes to find Bedelia sitting at the edge of his bed, a smug smirk across her lips-- she always looked smug when she appeared during his disagreements with Hannibal. Every other time she appeared, she just seemed bored. Will preferred it when she appeared bored as he felt a twinge of justice at the idea that even in death, Bedelia Du Maurier was bored.

_ I wouldn’t be here if that weren’t the case. _ Will countered.  _ If I missed the life I left behind when things were both good and bad, I wouldn’t be here. _

_ Why are you here? Does the black hole that is Hannibal Lecter call to you so strongly that you allow the fight within yourself to simply cease? Are you really done fighting, Will? _

Will gave a dry laugh and turned away from the woman.  _ I’m here because there’s nowhere else for me. Hannibal and I are…  _ Will paused before he spoke, out loud to the empty room, “... Conjoined.” His mind floated for a moment, the word vibrating on his tongue and his lips parted.  _ The war was never within myself, Bedelia. It feels good to hurt bad people. _

_ But Hannibal Lecter does not operate under the same restriction. As you would say, separate designs.  _

Rolling onto his back had Will grunting in discomfort but the words lingered heavily in his chest. Separate designs. Will had considered the concept passively but had no interest in asking Hannibal to change his ways. Will had long accepted this as a fact-- just another addition to his reality that was simply out of his control-- but he couldn’t deny that the fact bothered him sometimes.

_ Often, in fact _ ,  _ Hannibal’s choice of kills seem to affect you _ . Bedelia chimed slowly.

“Why does it have to be you?” Will muttered under his breath. Part of him wished he could sift through these thoughts on his own without his subconscious appearing to him in the form of the woman who acted as his replacement to the man he was quite suddenly realizing he has romantic feelings for.

Another part of him longed for Abigail to be the form sitting at the foot of the bed speaking because then his mind would be comforting him-- instead, his brain was taunting him.

_ It must be me because I was behind the veil-- where you are, now-- and I, too, have had the thoughts you are having. _

Will chuckled to himself and shook his head, mostly to himself.  _ You and I have had very different experiences, Bedelia. You were not a killer.  _

_ Are you?  _

A quiet knock at his door had Will sitting up quickly and finding the end of his bed empty. He could see Hannibal’s shadow from beneath the door and he took a breath.

“Yeah?”

“Dinner is outside your door. I will be back later.”

Will could see Hannibal step away from his door before he stood up from his bed and quickly made his way to the doorway. Opening it, Will stuck his head out towards where Hannibal’s shadow had moved. Hannibal stopped halfway down the hall, turning back to look at Will who blinked at him.

“You’re going on a hunt?” Will asked, eyeing Hannibal’s suit.

“If the opportunity were to arise--”

“You’re going without me,” Will said, the statement holding a hint of accusation. He was standing in the middle of the hallway now, between Hannibal and his room, and his fists tight in his pockets.

Hannibal paused for a moment before giving a solid nod and a verbal confirmation, “I may be.”

Will’s indignation was anything but hidden. Turning on his heel, Will stepped around the food blocking his path and nudged the door closed only  _ slightly _ harder than necessary. Hannibal caught the response for what it was but Will was well aware the act would do little to stop his plans-- hell, he didn’t  _ want _ to stop him. 

Standing in the middle of his room, Will’s toes curled into the throw carpet over the wood floors in a motion to center himself. Long breaths followed and blinking around the darkened area, Will half expected a cocky Bedelia to appear to him, once again. The blond, nor anyone else from his long forgotten past, had appeared and Will distantly heard the sound of the front door clicking shut. 

Will was moving before he had fully decided on his actions.

Changing his sweatpants for a pair of faded jeans was the only variation from his previous outfit, he realized, as he quickly pulled socks over his feet. His grey sweater worked for the cool early night air and he wasn’t terribly attached to either cloth considering he, most likely, would be tossing the clothing by the end of the night. Throwing his door open, he ran a hand through his curls and made his way through the house. 

This was the first time he had been in the house alone-- while awake, anyway. He mused on the thought that Hannibal had most likely slipped from the house during some evenings while he shuffled into a pair of old hiking boots. Will gathered himself together and exited the house-- surprised to find the car in its place in the car port. Will blinked at it a moment and huffed, looking around for any sign of Hannibal.

When none stood out to him, Will simply filed the thought under ‘ask Hannibal later’ within his mind and slipped into the car.

He thought about Hannibal’s leaving without the car while he drove... wherever he was driving. Hannibal didn’t have a murder basement like his place in Baltimore. Their house was not one of Hannibal’s many houses (mansions, in Will’s opinion) and hide-outs spread across the world and Will had made  _ sure _ of that. Their home was to be  _ theirs _ , not Hannibal’s, and Hannibal had agreed. But of course, only living in the area for the year hadn’t given Hannibal nearly enough time to create such an elaborately hidden area, and thus, his harvesting was done on-site of their kills.

Will hadn’t realized he was pulling into a bar parking lot until he was parked and watching his surroundings. Bars were a frequent for the duo when they were hunting together. The insides of dives like these were often small and intimate which meant the bar was more likely to have regulars and bartenders would be more likely to remember faces of a stranger-- However, outsides were usually dark and unwatched. Alleyways surrounded Will even now and many were often avoided for a plethora of reasons. 

But Will would not be killing in an alley today.

Across the parking lot, diagonal from the bar, stretched a graveyard. Such a place of beauty and death was the ultimate deciding factor behind his design and Will’s fingers tingled at the thought. As he watched the passing bar patrons stroll lazily into the establishment, he examined them in the low lighting and the brief flash of how they greeted the bar as they opened the door. Some of the attendees walked in loud, encouraging a drink while others shuffled in without a word. Several of the attendees walking in caught Will’s attention and he was lucky when one of those same attention grabbers was shoved through the front door of the bar, a bartender on his heel.

Will caught their passing words briefly-- “I said I was sorry,” the man insisted but the bartender grabbed the door frame to block the entrance before stating, “You need some help, Cam. Jess deserves better.” Will watched the bar door get pulled closed and the man stumbled slightly as he stepped forward to kick the door, low and unforgiving. 

This was good enough for Will.

Setting up the body was always the simple part for someone like Will-- crafty and skillful as he was, the design was never an issue. Choosing his prey was often more the issue and when hunting with Hannibal, they often followed people for days before Will agreed to a kill but this was different. Will fought to ignore the defensive wounds around the man’s eyes telling Will that he was abusive-- most likely sexual. Will ignored the constantly ringing phone that echoed from within the man’s pocket and Will guessed it was most likely a lover, Jess possibly, insisting on the man returning home. Will ignored the family photos that spilled from the man’s wallet when Will pulled the folded leather from his pocket.

These reasons were often enough for Will to act on his murderous tendencies but they were not his driving force today. 

This was  _ his _ design and his design  _ only _ . 

Getting the man into his car took very little effort. A rock over the head was enough to render the man unconscious and, soon, Will was driving them both across the street. It was late enough that the surrounding area was quiet but not so late the bar was emptying-- a perfect balance.

Balance, Will mused, was important. Stability and balance. 

_ His _ design.

The trunk of the car was popped and Will began. 

***

Returning home, Will was surprised to find he had arrived before Hannibal. The entire event had taken close to four hours and the clock beside his bed blinked 2:07 in red dashed numbers. Hannibal had returned by the time Will was out of the shower as Will could hear him rummaging around downstairs and smirked at the idea of Hannibal opening the fridge to find the new meat Will provided.

Will didn’t hide in his room the following day and Hannibal didn’t press Will about the extra meat. Hannibal greeted him politely when Will entered the sitting room before returning his attention back to the tablet in his hand. Will shuffled into the kitchen, very aware of Hannibal’s gaze on his back and a smirk on Will’s lips settled as he began pulling eggs from the fridge.

By the time the fridge drifted closed, Hannibal was standing on the opposite side of the island, a smirk on his lips.

“Was it a gift?” Hannibal asked and Will swallowed the grin threatening to emerge. 

“Was what a gift?” Will shot back, all but ignoring the Lithuanian as he gathered a pan from a hanging rack.

Hannibal sighed, albeit dramatically, before setting his tablet on the countertop. Will’s eyes skimmed the screen and he allowed the smirk to appear.

The picture was graphic, comparable to a picture Freddie Lounds would post if she were situated in New Zealand. A man, his victim, was displayed on the screen in the position Will left him-- kneeling and slumped forward slightly with rope tied around his torso and attached to a tree just out of picture. The man’s arms were duct taped together, palms up and out in offering with a  _ crushed _ heart dripping with blood. The man’s arms were also rope tied to be presented to Will’s design and wrapped around another branch just out of picture. Will mused over the idea that, perhaps, the presentation was on the nose in that sense but it was a decision he made in the moment. The victim’s wrists had symbols carved into them which were impossible to tell by the picture but were described in the article Hannibal was reading as greek symbols or the Libra sign. 

The man’s head, however, had not fallen forward as most worshipping figures are seen. Instead, Will positioned the man’s head to tilt up, gazing at the sky with a glassy eyed stare and the man’s fingers were sticking from his slack jawed mouth-- cut from the man post mortem and arranged haphazardly. His abdomen, blocked from view by his taped arms, was gutted and hallowed-- innards strewn across the pavement in front of him and trailing out of picture.

Missing from the scene would be a liver but Will didn’t need the article to tell him that.

“The design was pointed, Will,” Hannibal said once Will had gotten his fill, “and emotional.”

“And what’s wrong with that? Isn’t it common to present emotion in art? Isn’t that what art  _ is _ ?” Will asked.

Hannibal let the questions hang between them but kept a solid gaze on Will who glanced over the article lazily, scrolling through passed the descriptive bits he was well aware of. They identified the body and was treating the murder as a possible robbery-- a personal kill, even, as the scene had too many factors to be anything but. 

“And the Greek symbols?” Hannibal asked, amusement humming behind his question. 

“Western zodiac. It often represents balance or  _ stability _ ,” Will said with a shrug.

Hannibal huffed out a quiet chuckle and his tablet went to sleep after not being touched between them. Will leaned his hip against the counter and ignored the breakfast he had planned to create.

“I don’t find you unstable,” Hannibal said finally and Will barked out a laugh so harsh it startled even himself.

“You treat me like the damn teacup you never used to shut up about,” Will said bitterly, “And you  _ really _ came in here to lecture me about being emotional during kills?” Will scoffed and planted both palms on the counter to lean across as he spoke, “You killed a woman because she called you old, Hannibal, and have killed for far less. I don’t want to kill indiscriminately and I get called  _ unstable _ .”

“I insinuated your instability because this is the first you have admitted to the potential of having a different design, Will,” Hannibal spoke so calmly that it took everything in Will to focus on his words and not punch the Lithuanian in the face. “For twelve months you have paraded about, pushing yourself to your limits to avoid telling me just this.”

Will’s shoulders fell and his head tilted slightly-- confusion and understanding setting in simultaneously. 

“I don’t parade,” Will muttered and Hannibal grinned. 

“I suspect your actions reflect your desire to avoid any possible situation that would separate us. I believe your fear is unfounded--”

“It’s not a fear,” Will sighed and Hannibal continued.

“We are different entities, Will,” Hannibal said, “We are bound to one another. Where one ends, the other begins. Art is meant to change and fluctuate. As often as our designs overlap, they will differentiate.”

Will was silent for a moment. Hannibal watched him with a heavy gaze which was met by Will's own. Exchanging glances with Hannibal spread a warmth through Will that made him want to pull at the neck of his sweater. Will fought the urge. 

“It’s more complicated than that,” Will muttered.

“Oh?” Hannibal asked.

Will sighed and nodded before speaking, “At first, I didn’t know if I could do… what you do…” 

The words were spoken purposefully slow and Will averted his gaze mid sentence before returning to Hannibal. He would always return to Hannibal and that was the deciding factor.

“Killing with you was simple,” Will said with a dark chuckle.

“Of course,” Hannibal nodded, “you empathized and shaped your desire into my own. It was only natural for you.”

“Right. But  _ my _ desire and  _ my _ design were both lost, Hannibal. This--” Will pointed to the tablet, “--was mine.”

Hannibal tilted his head in agreeance first and then acknowledgement.

“I didn’t know him-- I didn’t have to. I didn’t follow him or watch him for longer than necessary. It was random.  _ He _ was random. I-I didn’t know--” Will ran a hand through his hair and he took a breath, “--I didn’t know if I could do it... alone.”

“But you did,” Hannibal said.

“I did,” Will said with a pause. Will’s voice lowered and his eyes shined with passion and fear when he spoke, “I did and I  _ liked _ it.”

“Was it a gift?” Hannibal asked again, though his lips were pulled into a smirk.

Will looked at him for a long but quiet moment before, finally, he nodded.

“Yeah-- Yeah it was, Hannibal.”

Hannibal rounded the island quickly and Will had a momentary flash of himself doing exactly that just days ago. Will blinked and Hannibal was close enough his breath ghosted across his lips. They stayed like this, mere inches apart and Will’s eyes glistening in shock as his gaze flitted between Hannibal’s dark eyes and his parted lips. Hannibal held Will by his sides and Will could feel Hannibal inhale deeply at the close proximity. 

Will suddenly felt like prey.

The thrill of this realization pooled in his stomach and he tilted his chin up, gaze meeting Hannibal readily.

“May I?” Hannibal’s voice was breathy and his accent thick.

Will hummed in thought, breathing in Hannibal’s closeness and the faint smell of coffee on his tongue. “What changed?” he asked and Hannibal’s lips pulled into a smirk that showed his sharp teeth.

“I fear you will find my answer predictable,” Hannibal said and Will chuckled, looking away only for a moment. “You changed, Will. You found  _ your _ design and your willingness to bend that design to fit my own is… profoundly intoxicating… much like your presence.” Will didn’t say anything-- there wasn’t much to be said, after all. Will felt worshipped, in that moment, with the way Hannibal spoke to him and the heavy lidded gaze that followed the words. Hannibal dipped his head closer and lips were brushing lips so softly it would have tickled a more sensitive person than Will.

“May I?” Hannibal asked again, lips moving against lips to mold the question.

This time, Will answered in a heavy nod.

Hannibal secured Will’s lips with his own. Accepting the kiss felt as natural, to Will, as the choice to pull them over the cliff as if it just  _ had _ to happen. The moment Will’s lips touched Hannibal's, Will thought of destiny and everything that led them here. He didn’t just think of his own advances several days prior but to every therapy session, attempted murder, and half-truth between them.

Perhaps Hannibal could feel Will’s thoughts pulsing beneath their pressed skin-- a thought that had occurred to Will on more than one occasion-- because quite suddenly a thumb and forefinger slipped under the hem of his shirt and was petting the warm skin of Will’s side. A shiver broke through Will and he grinned into the kiss. His arms finally came to life and cupped the back of Hannibal’s neck. Will dug his fingertips into the small hairs that sat at the base of Hannibal’s head when lips parted and Will felt the touch of a tongue against his.

The kiss was chaste.

Remaining clutched against one another, they separated just enough to allow words between them.

“Are you looking to take this slow, Will?” Hannibal asked.

Will looked at the man through long lashes and a half lidded gaze for a moment. He scoffed, gaze unwavering, and spoke through desire laced words, “Not even slightly.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex. That's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder and thank you to Kai who helped me overcome my writer's block by nudging me every few days and complimenting me relentlessly. I could cry I'm so thankful. She's basically my co-writer at this point.

Being led up to Hannibal’s room by his hips had Will absolutely buzzing. His fingertips tingled where they brushed the skin of Hannibal’s exposed chest. Hannibal’s sweater had been discarded on the staircase somewhere, much to its owner’s chagrin. From the beginning there was an ebb and flow to their kiss and Will would be lying if he said he didn’t fight until the realization hit him— this was  _ Hannibal—  _ and with that realization, Will slipped into the actions that felt most natural in the moment. 

Submission would never be the word Will used as he allowed himself to be led. Acquiescence was more accurate and Will knew that despite handing Hannibal the reigns, Will was in control. If Will asked Hannibal to stop, he would. If Will asked Hannibal to fuck him until he couldn’t think straight, Hannibal would do that too. 

The latter was far more interesting to him.

“Tell me, Will—“ A groan fell from Will’s lips when Hannibal parted them to speak. Will disagreed with the decision and chased the Lithuanian’s lips, securing Hannibal’s lower lip between his own. Hannibal yielded to the kiss for a long moment and Will gave an appreciative hum as his tongue swept over Hannibal’s lip before diving back to re-explore his mouth. Hannibal revelled in the feeling of Will’s tongue gliding across his teeth. A hum resonated between them and Will was pressed hard into the doorway of Hannibal’s room.

Ending the kiss felt borderline criminal but a conversation needed to be had.

Hannibal’s lips trailed hard kisses up Will’s jawline and into his curls. Will’s head fell back against the doorframe and he huffed in annoyance as the kisses slowly transformed from lust ridden lips clashing against lips to a sensual show of appreciation that Will was anything but ready for.

“Tell me, Will,” Hannibal began again, breath hot against the shell of Will’s ear, “Before we tread further--”

“Hannibal, I swear to God if you ask if I’m sure I want you to fuck me, I will punch you,” Will threatened heavily through gritted teeth. Hannibal passively glanced at Will’s fingers digging into his upper arms and smirked before meeting Will’s gaze again.

“I want to worship you,” Hannibal breathed, hand raising to pat Will’s curls down the way one would pet a dog to relax it. Unsurprising to both, the action worked and Will blinked up at Hannibal in a long bout of deep confusion. 

“Wha--”

“You will lie back and my lips will trace every bit of skin--” Hannibal explained, his fingers tracing long lines down Will’s face, “My tongue will dive into crevices no other has and you will be touched just the same. You will be treated as the precious tea cup you so hate. Lastly, Will, you will be ravished. I simply need to know if you are prepared for this.”

The silence between them was not new to either men as they often sat in comfortable silence, but Will would call the quiet between them now deafening. Will swallowed hard when he returned Hannibal’s hard gaze and he gave a quick nod.

“I already said I’m ready. I want this, Hannibal, and I want you,” Will muttered, quiet confidence lingering in his words that had Hannibal’s cheshire grin alight.

And then Will was being guided by a strong grip on his hips towards Hannibal’s bed and Will realized, quite suddenly, that he was meant to be a feast and Hannibal would make him feel as such. Being laid out-- splayed with a precision and grace only Hannibal could orchestrate-- felt unnatural to the brunet. Will expected to be pushed onto the bed with a hard shove and to fall haphazardly when the back of his knees hit the bed-- like a shitty movie. He expected to be prowled over by Hannibal and to feel like prey to the man hovering over him and he expected to  _ crave _ it.

Hannibal laid him out, instead, urging Will back to the center of the bed with nudging kisses and insistent fingers-- the same insistent fingers that had Will’s plaid button up slipping from his shoulders and were working on his slacks faster than Will could truly keep up. Will’s pants were loose at his hips when Hannibal elegantly perched himself over Will and his lips pressed against the brunet’s skin so softly it burned.

The Lithuanian’s thighs bracketed Will’s hips and he bowed his body to trace the scars scattered among Will’s right shoulder. In the light, Hannibal could have seen where the raised slightly paler skin collided with the Will’s darker, more tan skin tone. However, any sunlight bleeding in through the window was blocked by a heavy maroon curtain that Will wouldn’t even notice until after they finished with each other.

Warm lips were replaced by an even warmer tongue that dipped into the scar where Jack shot him to save Hannibal and Will shivered at the memory. Hannibal’s tongue visited each scar separately, reviving memories behind Will’s eyes like sparks to gasoline. Will doesn’t remember his arms wrapping around Hannibal’s neck or his fingers dragging dull nails across the warm skin of Hannibal’s back. Will felt the flexing muscles beneath his palms as Hannibal’s lips traced  _ up _ \-- god, Will had so hoped Hannibal would go  _ down _ . Higher on that shoulder, Hannibal’s lips found the bullet that hit Will by Chiyoh and, as if knowingly able to identify each scar with just his tongue and lips, smirked into the skin there. 

And then Hannibal’s nose dragged across Will’s skin, mere inches over, where Will was stabbed by the Dragon and Will could feel Hannibal scenting at him-- at  _ them _ , their combined pleasure ridden scent. 

Will’s growing discomfort spread and pulsed through him with every rise of his already present erection. Every minute that passed felt like hours and Will’s unease deepened. Long, delicate strokes of his face kept Will present-- aware-- and had him leaning into each caress. Hannibal hummed against the base of Will’s collar before he trailed the lightest kisses up Will’s neck while, simultaneously, Will elongated his body and twisted his neck to further expose the skin beneath Hannibal’s tongue. 

Will was almost certain Hannibal breathed a ‘good boy’ somewhere beneath his breath and against his neck but the mere idea of it sent a shiver through Will. Hannibal sucked on the spit slick skin of Will’s nape so suddenly a gasp broke Will’s silence. A slight arch of Will’s back had Hannibal lightly pressing the man back into the mattress. 

A breathy chuckle fell from Hannibal’s lips and against Will’s stubbled jaw. Hannibal ran his lips against the grain of Will’s short beard and nuzzled into the comfort and warmth of Will’s shaky breaths. Will’s splayed fingers on Hannibal’s back strained and his eyes fluttered shut when Hannibal’s lips trailed up Will’s cheek. 

Will winced.

Hannibal paused.

They exchanged glances and Will blinked at Hannibal in mild confusion-- he hadn’t expected his own response. Hannibal viewed his scars as beautiful--  _ him _ as beautiful-- but Will fought painfully hard to grow a beard over the scar disfiguring his face; Will, subsequently, failed as his facial hair did little to cover the healed stab wound and was patchy  _ at best _ . 

“Beautiful,” Hannibal muttered, accent thick and words heavy.

Will had no response and resigned to reattach their lips in a blatant show of appreciation and assurance. Will grasped at the back of Hannibal’s neck and leveraged himself up to kiss the Lithuanian--  _ his  _ Lithuanian-- hard. Easing Will back against the mattress with his kisses, Hannibal resumed his exploratory mission with his lips and repositioned over Will’s cheek.

This time, Will sighed and Hannibal trailed his lips up. After pressing a kiss to Will’s eyelid, his lips paused over the faded but nearly visible scar atop Will’s forehead. Another violent scene-- a reminder of their past-- danced behind Will’s eyelids which quickly shut off at the continued gentle caresses of Hannibal’s long fingers.

Hannibal trailed down Will’s opposite side after trailing across Will’s forehead even passing where the bone saw scar tapered. Thinly pursed lips pressed light kisses to Will’s fluttering eyelashes. Hannibal touched each bit of Will in the way he always wanted to touch him. He pressed his lips to each part of Will he ever wanted to touch and that was simply  _ all _ of him.

The design-- Hannibal’s design-- swelled beneath the surface of  _ them _ . Will saw it as clearly as he saw Hannibal himself and felt the intention pressed into him with each brush of Hannibal’s lips against him. Their continuous tide-- their push and pull-- had slowly become a deadly current flowing in the same direction.

Will was painfully hard by the time Hannibal’s lips were pressing into the other side of his neck and he was beginning to squirm. Just when Will was  _ sure _ Hannibal’s lips were going to glide down towards his pecks, Hannibal sat up and took Will’s hand in his and began to press the same light kisses to the tips of Will’s fingers. Each subsequent finger tingled in response even as Hannibal reached his final finger on his left hand.

The buzzing within Will felt as if a sea of bees were trapped just beneath his skin and each press of Hannibal’s lips to Will agitated the swarm further. Hannibal’s lips trailed the forearm of Will’s arm and Will’s opposite hand dug into the bedding. The steady treatment continued up his toned upper arm and then switched to his left where it traced down his bicep. Hannibal’s tongue danced on Will’s wrist before sucking on the skin just over the shallow veins on the underside of his forearm. 

Will, despite being painfully  _ present _ , hoped longingly for there to be bruises and marks covering every inch of his skin tomorrow. Before he could even allow himself to get lost in the idea, Hannibal’s lips were wrapping around Will’s index finger and his tongue slithered around the digit before he bobbed his head suggestively.

Will’s mouth  _ actually _ watered and he groaned behind closed lips.

“Stay with me, beloved,” Hannibal muttered before taking a second finger with the first and sucking them both down.

Will bit back a comment-- far too similar to their past banters-- and chose to remain quiet, instead. 

This moment, Will decided, would be entirely new for them. 

He nodded and inhaled a long, shaky breath. 

Hannibal’s patience tested both men. The Lithuanian stayed true to his word and mapped every inch of Will’s body; Hannibal bit love bites down his torso and kissed up Will’s toned thighs. Lust and love flowed freely through Will and met in a clash in his groin. Each pass of Hannibal’s lips across Will’s sweat slick skin caused the man to throb. Hannibal balanced his teasing nips and his loving kisses perfectly— Will felt helpless to Hannibal’s touches, and yet, was content to lie back and be devoured bit by bit if Hannibal so pleased.

By the time Hannibal had maneuvered his lips across the planes of Will’s skin and felt satisfied in his newfound knowledge, Will was audibly gasping at each passing touch and moaning shamelessly when Hannibal’s touch found his throbbing erection. His pants had been long discarded and were clinging to the edge of the bed beside Hannibal leaving him exposed to Hannibal’s piercing gaze and own wanton lust. 

Hannibal’s pants still clung desperately to his hips, low and tented from his own erection. Despite never previously experiencing the urge to do so, Will wanted Hannibal in him— in any way possible. If Hannibal were to line himself up at Will’s lips, Will would happily swallow him down whole.

But Will knew Hannibal better than that.

Their lips were together and Will realized he had momentarily gotten lost in thought, once again falling through the cracks where he ended and Hannibal began. Will hummed, a reassurance to Hannibal that he was present and  _ back _ . A hand caressed his erection in reward and Will arched into the touch.

“My love,” Hannibal muttered, not unlike a prayer, between kisses, “my beloved.”

Will’s hands rose to stroke down the side of Hannibal’s face and his fingers mapped the hard lines of the Lithuanian’s cheekbones. 

“Would you let me taste you as you have me? Could I chart each bit of you with my teeth and tongue?” Will asked against Hannibal’s lips and the man smiled.

“Anything you wish, Will, you will have,” Hannibal assured, “you need only ask.”

“I want a dog.”

Will’s words came suddenly and had Hannibal pausing, only for a moment, to digest the request before their kisses continued, light pecks teetering between deep and chaste. Will was smiling against Hannibal’s lips when he continued. 

“I want a dog and I want you, Hannibal. That is all I want.”

“You have me,” Hannibal muttered, attention dropping to Will’s lips for a moment before returning to meet Will’s gaze, “the dog can be acquired.”

“Winston?” Will asked quietly.

“ _ Winston _ can be acquired,” Hannibal agreed.

And then Will was pulling Hannibal down to lay atop him fully with insistent tugs at his shoulders. The heavy weight of Hannibal atop him felt protective after the timely exposé that had Will feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. However, beneath Hannibal, Will felt… safe. Hannibal’s arms wrapped around Will and a warmth spread through him unlike any he had ever experienced before.

Hannibal’s touch was heavy and purposeful and Will hoped the hard grasp of his fingerprints would embed in his skin for days to come. They kissed and kissed despite Will never previously being a particularly sexual or sensual man-- all he craved was  _ Hannibal.  _ Hannibal caressed Will’s inner thigh before breaking their kiss. Slowly, painfully slow, Hannibal’s fingers found Will’s erection and began gliding from base to tip, feather light touches that caused Will to arch and gasp. 

Hannibal grasped Will firmly and Will bucked so violently, their lips disconnected. Will moaned, long and loud, and shuddered at the deep sound of Hannibal chuckling in his ear. Being stroked, even as slow as he was, had Will  _ writhing _ beneath Hannibal. Will was sensitive and the light, teasing touches were doing little to satisfy his needs— but, even with his mind clouded with lust, he knew that this was exactly as Hannibal had planned.

Kisses were pressed to Will’s temple, then his jaw, and his neck— all the way down past where his scar had just previously been loved so fully by Hannibal. The feeling of Hannibal’s lips engulfing him jolted Will’s senses and a moan escaped his throat. 

“F-fu—ck—“ Will moaned when Hannibal swallowed him down, quick and shallow.

The action was enough to distract Will from Hannibal’s wandering fingers— the ones rubbing repetitive wet circles around Will’s entrance. Hannibal pulled his mouth from Will’s cock with an appreciative lick that pulled a full body shudder from Will. Hannibal pressed his wet lips against Will’s upper thigh and hummed.

“No matter how this feels, Will, you will not touch yourself. Do you understand me?” Hannibal’s accented voice vibrated through Will and Will nodded in an eagerness that was completely foreign to him. 

A bottle that Will had not seen— now or prior— was being emptied onto Hannibal’s waiting fingers. A mild wave of confusion washed over him as Hannibal began pushing his way into Will’s body. Will was a virgin to being on the receiving end of anal sex let alone sex with a man but he wasn’t completely daft and was well aware of the levels of discomfort that he would soon be experiencing. 

Will just didn’t expect to  _ enjoy _ the discomfort leading to the supposed pleasure.

Being stretched by Hannibal felt akin to being prepared for a meal. Will felt tenderized by the master chef’s mouth and thoroughly rested. Now, Will mused, all that was left was to cook and consume. Hannibal’s singular finger was soon accompanied by a second and Hannibal’s free hand stroked reassurance against Will’s inner thigh. 

Will shifted as the fullness of Hannibal breaching him overwhelmed just enough for him to slide his legs further apart. Once Will situated himself, Hannibal continued slowly massaging Will’s insides and Will did little to withhold his gasps of pleasure. An impossible warmth spread through Will the longer Hannibal worked into him and his cock leaked with precum at the built up desire within him. When Hannibal’s fingers began to scissor and stretch him earnestly, Will’s hand gripped lightly into the sheets of Hannibal’s bedding and a soft ‘ _ oh _ ’ escaped him. 

As if on cue, Hannibal deepened his exploratory digits and Will saw white. Will’s back arched so hard his moan was cut off by sheer surprise. His fingers gripped and tugged hard at Hannibal’s sheets before he quickly attempted to shuffle away from Hannibal’s grasp.

“No-no-no _ -fuck _ —“ Will gasped, a shiver running through him as he spoke. Hannibal held onto him with his free arm while the other, still deep within Will, did the action again to have Will writhing beneath him. “Fuckfuck—Hannibal I’m going to—“ Will gulped down his words and Hannibal stopped, heavy gaze watching the tension in Will’s abdomen relax for a moment with a smirk.

A third finger was added and with it came a new, sharper, ache to the stretch. Will welcomed the feeling as he was beginning to worry about exactly how long he would last in this state and he hoped, distantly, the pain would pull him back from the edge he so nearly tipped over just moments before.

But, also, Will wanted Hannibal to fuck him and his patience had long run out.

“You’ve done enough,” Will muttered and huffed when Hannibal simply shot him a gaze. “Can you just—“ Will groaned, “—just fuck me.”

Hannibal paused his movements and blinked at Will with a playful smirk— a smirk that, in any other situation, Will would have hated.

“Terribly rude,” Hannibal chastised and Will had to bite his tongue from muttering the words ‘ _ eat me’  _ because he was certain the man would and that was not a conversation Will was needing, in this particular moment.

Will could feel Hannibal shuffling but his eyes were half lidded and focused on the shadows of the ceiling. He expected to be maneuvered onto his knees-- Will’s knowledge of homosexual sex was limited but he knew  _ that _ much at least-- but he wasn’t. Instead, Hannibal bent Will’s knees and positioned himself against Will’s entrance. Hannibal had one arm wrapped around Will’s left thigh while his right guided his erection but his gaze was on Will.

God, the man was a damn hawk.

Breaching Will had Hannibal’s eyes flutter shut and Will gasp and tighten on the intrusion. Hannibal towered over Will and wrapped his arms around the man before kissing his parted lips. Will, despite being rigid and ever focused, followed suit and his hands clung to Hannibal as he returned the onslaught of kisses in desperation. Their broken kisses turned lazy and languid. Hannibal waited-- far more patiently than Will could ever-- until the tension dispelled completely from Will before fucking into his body in a swift jolt. Will moaned, loud and long, into their kiss. His grip on the back of Hannibal’s neck tightened and he arched his chest into Hannibal. His dull fingernails dug into the base of the Lithuanian’s hairline when said Lithuanian didn’t stop fucking into him.

Will grasped for purchase anywhere and everywhere. His legs instinctively rose to bracket Hannibal’s hips while tight gasps huffed from his lips with each thrust he took. Hannibal’s lips were busy marking Will’s stretched neck, overwhelming every one of Will’s senses. Underneath the scent of the mixed muskiness from their exertion, Will could smell a hint of charred sandalwood or maybe cedarwood-- he had never been good at deciphering scents. The sounds of skin slapping merged with the feeling of intense  _ fullness _ and engulfed Will.

Will was lost.

Sex had never felt this sensual before. Will had never been physically and emotionally stripped naked prior to such an erotic experience. He could feel them-- an amalgam of lust, pleasure, and love.

God, there was so much love.

Hannibal shifted and straightened before hoisting Will up by his hips. Will reached forward, fingers dragging lazily down Hannibal’s chest and through the man’s soft curls of his chest hair. His eyes were glazed over despite his gaze unmoving from Hannibal. Will could barely register the soft thrusts or the feeling of Hannibal’s fingers digging into his hips.

Until the thrusts were no longer soft and, instead, were sharp and precise and--

“--Oh god,” fell from Will’s lips.

Will was close-- so fucking close. 

He was arched and impossibly tight and his fingers, without his permission, gripped into Hannibal’s chest hair. Will’s head was thrown back exposing a bruised neck that he would surely appreciate later while his heels pressed hard into Hannibal’s lower back to support himself. Will could feel the tension building in abdomen again and his breathing had turned far more erratic. Despite his dry mouth and sore throat, mewls of pleasure spilled from Will’s slack jaw. 

Hannibal’s thrusts were deep and fast and hard and so precise against Will’s prostate that he was sure he was shaking. 

“J-Just like th-that--” Will muttered, his dry lips sticking together as they formed the words through his moans.

“You will finish like this,” Hannibal stated and  _ god _ he was so collected.

Despite the energy and, hell, even the time put into this, Hannibal seemed unfazed. Yes, the man looked down at Will as if he was the damn La Primavera and  _ yes _ , Hannibal’s gaze unwavered from Will from the moment they left the kitchen but Hannibal looked nothing like Will felt.

Normally, this would upset Will as this contributed highly to his theory that Hannibal was downright godly; and from his position, Hannibal looked damn ethereal with his fixed gaze on Will and his lips parted ever so slightly.

“I didn’t t-take you as the dominant type,” Will stuttered when Hannibal slowed ever so slightly to find and grip Will’s hand with his own. 

“Of course you did, mylimasis,” Hannibal said darkly before tightening his grip on Will’s hip.

Hannibal snapped his hips and drove into Will with thrust after thrust and Will fell over the edge so fast he screamed. 

The Lithuanian maintained his constant drives into Will even as Will tensed hard around him and came. Long hot white strings of cum streaked Will’s stomach, chest, and even Hannibal as the man bowed over Will to kiss his neck through his orgasm. 

And then, the man gave a low grunt and was spilling buried within Will and the feeling of fullness only deepened-- even if, later, Will would be groaning at the sticky mess.

His ears were ringing and his vision was gone but, honestly, Will couldn't care less. The weight of Hannibal on him was warm but safe and it was obnoxious how satisfied-- not just content but damn happy-- he felt. 

God, Will was happy.

So he smiled.

And then he chuckled and he could feel Hannibal bobbing against his chest.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Will said and he had to clear his throat at how hoarse his voice came.

Will opened his eyes, despite not knowing when he had closed them, and glanced down at Hannibal. Hannibal’s chin leaned comfortably atop his hand that rested on Will’s breast and he was grinning, toothy and wide. Will ran a hand through the man’s almost perfect hair and raked his nails through it lazily. 

Hannibal hummed and Will chuckled again.

“You aren’t one to be silent,” he said with a sleepy grin.

“Yes well, I, unlike some, tend to enjoy the moment,” Hannibal spoke with that toothy grin and Will fought the urge to push the man off of him completely-- playfully, mostly.

“I  _ am _ enjoying the moment,” Will sighed in content and groaned as he flexed unintentionally and felt the sticky mess within him, “but I would enjoy it much more from in a shower.”

“Very well,” Hannibal said and was off him swiftly.

Will didn’t have time to even quietly miss the weight of the man as he was, very suddenly, able to appreciate Hannibal’s body. Even in the shadows of the room, Will could clearly see Hannibal’s toned back and upper thighs. Will watched as Hannibal moved into his bathroom and out of sight before the sound of the shower starting filled the air. Hannibal returned a moment later and Will hummed appreciatively at the sight.

“Will I be joining you?” Hannibal asked with a tip of his head while he stepped towards the bed.

Will’s smirk returned and he shrugged, “Probably.”

But Hannibal simply returned to his bed and Will turned towards him before resting his arm on the man’s chest.

“Were you serious about Winston?” Will asked after a moment of silence and Hannibal’s eyebrows rose.

“Of course, Will. It won’t be easy--”

Hannibal’s words were swallowed by Will as he threw himself on top of Hannibal and kissed the man hard.

“Might as well add dog-napping to our list of crimes,” Will muttered against Hannibal’s lips and grinned.

“The things you do to me,” Hannibal responded with a sigh and Will cupped his face with his palms and looked down at the man-- sometimes monster-- that he loved so hard it hurt.

“I could say the same,” Will responded quietly.


End file.
